Massage

[Martin Hash]

My wife, Gwynne, convinced me to go with her to Carson Hot Springs in Skamania , Washington. Constructed at the turn of the last century, the rustic lodge, cabins, and natural mineral water attract a fringe assortment of earthy types. Arriving after an hour drive, I was not alarmed by the gravel parking lot or dilapidated buildings. In fact, for just over $100 for the two of us we were to stay overnight, bask in the steaming waters, rest, and finish up with a calming massage. We checked in, paid our money, and got into the hourly queue. I was apprehensive due to the word "massage" but I wanted to be open-minded.

We were separated by sex - women on one side, men on the other. I wasn't getting nervous yet. As to be expected, there were a lot of naked men wandering about the cracked concrete floors of the soaking room (I kept my eyes down). Huge, claw-footed porcelain tubs with large orange mineral stains filled one room. The attendant turned on a stream of steaming hot water for me. I'd brought a book which I read rather than try to make conversation with assorted undressed men bathing nearby. Still okay.

After a half hour of soaking it was time to be tightly wrapped up in a steaming hot sheet. After ten minutes of sweating immobility came my first inklings of discomfort. After twenty minutes I was paranoidly glancing about. The attendant, a man, finally unwrapped me. "Take a shower then go down that hallway," he said almost silently. I had to lean real close to hear what he was saying. "Down the hallway?" I queried. He winked, nodded his head. Alarms really began going off in my head.

I showered in a steaming shower (I was really over heated now), wrapped a towel around my loins (I didn't know if I was supposed to or not but I thought it was time to be careful), and headed through a beaded doorway. Just on the other side was a fully clothed woman. My eyes went wide. She led me to a little room with nothing but a blanket hanging over the front and a high padded table. "Lay here," she ordered. "Get under the sheet. Your masseuse will be here in a moment." I dropped the towel, popped under the sheet. I felt covered but a wet body under a thin white sheet leaves little to the imagination. Things had definitely got out of hand.

I was sweating a lot more than the heat would suggest. My fears were realized when my attractive female masseuse stepped through the blanket. "Hi. I'm Cindy. I'm going to be your companion for an hour," she said professionally. I lasted the hour without embarrassing myself as Cindy probed every aspect of my body - my scalp, ears, feet, arms, legs, etc. She would unwrap a portion of me, massage it, then rewrap and go on. An hour of glorious hell. I thought, "What's going on with Gwynne, my wife?" Then I heard her giggle somewhere nearby, and a man's voice. "Oh, my god," I thought, "What had she gotten us into?"

Afterwards, shook up and chagrined, I carefully asked Gwynne how she liked it. "Oh. It was wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I can't wait to come back. Can we come back next month?" she asked hopefully. I nodded uncommittedly. We drove home in silence. Gwynne slept with a grin on her face. I was still sweating.

Over the next couple weeks I cautiously brought up the subject with other men. My sophisticated friend Mark was an open-minded and worldly individual. "You and Renda ever been to Carson Hot Spring?" I asked off-handedly. "Renda and her sisters have," he said. "I don't think it's for men."

Back at the office I asked Bob, "Didn't you say you've been to Carson Hot Springs?" Bob said, "Me. No. My wife Dennise - her and her mom went." He leaned closer to me for confidentiality. "I heard you get naked massages there."

"You've been to the Carson Hot Springs?" I asked my friend John who said he'd been there with his wife, Marla. "Yeah," he said. "What'd you think of the massage?" I asked meekly. "Massage!" John exclaimed. "I bombed out of there during the mummy wrap. Nobody's getting me into some massage room!"

I asked a dozen guys I knew. They'd all heard of Carson Hot Springs and all of their wives, mothers, and sisters had been there but I apparently was the only man anyone ever heard of who had actually gone through it. They look at me kind of funny now.